Figuring It Out
by cherryredxx
Summary: Despite being nearly thirty, Ginny has no idea where her life is going. Irritatingly enough, another person seems to have everything all figured out.
1. All Falls Down

Another late night at the office.

She sighed heavily before taking a large swig of her cold coffee, hoping that by some chance, this little sip of caffiene might just do something for her that the first six cups she'd had throughout the day had been unable to do. She made a face as the tasteless, acidic liquid slid down her throat, but Ginny Weasley was far too exhausted to get up and make herself another cup. A glance over at the clock disheartened her. It was well past office hours – in fact, it was past her bedtime. There was just short of eight hours left before she had to be back to work again.

And then she looked longingly at her typewriter, at the painfully empty page she had been slaving over since eight o'clock that morning.

Three sentences. Ninety-six words.

In sixteen hours, that was all she had been able to write. Her boss would surely tear her a new one if she turned in an article that was so far from being complete. It wasn't even worthy of going to her editor.

But in all reality, Ginny knew that she wouldn't get much more work done on her article. Time was running thin, and no inspiration was coming to her. In fact, the only thing coming to her was drowsiness. The six cups of coffee did not help, and neither did her fear of repercussion.

Maybe if she just rested her eyes for a minute...

* * *

"WEASLEY!"

She bolted upright in her chair, taking in her surroundings as best she could. She knew that voice anywhere – her boss. And it was all making sense. She was still at work. She didn't even remember leaving...

"Weasley, I'm not going to say your bloody name again! Wake the damn hell up!"

Suppressing a yawn as best she could, Ginny nodded. "Yes, sir. I'm up."

"Good," he said, although he still didn't sound particularly thrilled. "Where's the article I assigned yesterday? I need to send it to Bones for editing."

Damn. That's what she had forgotten.

"Er... sir, about the article..."

"No excuses!" he said, his voice heavy with irritation. "If it's not finished, at least let me see what you've got so far."

With a moan, Ginny handed her draft to her boss, awaiting and dreading the awful yelling that she was fairly certain was about to come. But it didn't, and in a lot of ways, that was worse. He said nothing – he just walked away.

* * *

A few hours later – box of personal items in hand – Ginny walked up the stairs of her second floor studio flat. She was in desperate need of a nap, a shower, dinner, and a fresh change of clothes. And a shot of vodka.

There was a tapping at the window as soon as she walked through the front door. A beautiful tawny owl was waiting patiently as she set down her box on the kitchen table and opened the window. She absentmindly handed the bird a treat as she opened the letter.

G,

Meet me at our place at 5. We need to talk.

C

She sighed. It was only ten, which gave her plenty of time to relax before this impromptu meeting. One of the perks of being fired from a job, Ginny decided, was that at least she got to take some time to recuperate.

Despite her better judgment, she walked into the kitchen and began to brew another pot of coffee. Ginny knew herself well enough to know that if she fell asleep now, there was no way in hell she'd wake up before the next morning.

* * *

Somewhat refreshed, Ginny entered the bar. It was their place – hers and Christopher's. They had been dating for a few months, and though their style of dating was somewhat casual, both of them had agreed in the beginning to stay monogomous. This was usually a given in any romantic relationship for her. She couldn't keep track of more than one man at any given time. She could barely keep track of herself.

She sat down at their booth. Christopher was not sitting there, but his coat was, which probably meant that he had gone off to the loo. Ginny waited patiently, twiddling her thumbs. It was five minutes past when he had told her to meet, and she was becoming impatient. If he wanted to disturb her day with surprise dates, he should at least have the decency to show up to them in a timely manner.

"Ginny," he said, appearing from thin air before he took the seat across from her. "You look nice."

"Thanks," she answered with a yawn. She knew damn well that she didn't look nice. She'd thrown on the first pair of denims she could find – clean or dirty – and had put on her rattiest, oldest Holyhead Harpies t-shirt. She had, however, bothered to at least run a comb through the rat's nest she'd had on her head the last few days, so she supposed she could at least accept credit for that. "So, what did you want to talk about then?"

"Well..." Christopher began, looking and sounding decidedly uncomfortable. "Ginny, you're great. You're beautiful and you're smart and you can be lots of fun..."

She snorted. "Thanks."

"But, listen. I feel like, lately, you and I haven't been... connecting."

"Oh yeah?" she replied absently, swirling a straw in her glass of water.

"I think we should break up."

It took her a moment before she actually heard him, but once what he said finally registered, Ginny nodded. "Yeah. I think it might be for the best."

"Really?" he asked, sounding a little disheartened. "You don't think what we have is worth fighting for?"

Ginny shrugged. "To be completely honest, I don't really have the energy to fight for or about anything. We always said our relationship was meant to be casual, so if you aren't feeling anything anymore, then that's just the way it goes, isn't it?"

"No, Ginny, I don't think you understand."

"I understand perfectly. I'm just not a sappy, attached little girl who gets all brokenhearted over a man who's uninterested..."

"I think I'm in love with you."

That was, of course, something that she had not expected to hear.

He reached across the table and touched her hand. "Ginny, I know we haven't been seeing each other long, but the way I feel for you... it's... it's... it's unparalleled. And I could feel you slipping away, so I thought if I threatened to break up with you, you'd realize what you were losing and you'd change for me..."

Ginny was quiet for a moment. She looked at the curly-headed man who was pleading with her to take him back after he had only just broken up with her a moment earlier. Christopher had been a decent enough boyfriend – he was good looking, wealthy, good in bed – but she really didn't know too much about him. They'd always skipped right over the talking part and jumped right into the sex, and that was fine for their casual relationship. But now he was proclaiming his love for her? He didn't even know her!

"Christopher, I think we should both just walk away from tonight with our heads high." She tapped his hand condescendingly. "Please don't send me anymore owls."

* * *

Ginny Apparated to Diagon Alley. She knew well enough that she should have just gone home, but she was exhausted and not thinking straight. More than anything, she wanted a drink.

A swanky new pub had just opened up in the Alley, and Ginny had tried to get Christopher to take her there for nearly the entire time that they were together, but he had flatly refused. She had been, frankly, so tired of going to their bar and sitting with him in their booth, but he had insisted that having a regular place with a regular table was something special, and she just didn't have the energy to argue with him. But now she was a free woman, and she could drink anywhere she damn well pleased.

The pub was small and quaint with a calm atmosphere that she really did appreciate in her current state. She didn't quite feel like going to a loud dance club, but at the same time, she didn't particularly want to go to an empty bar so that she could feel like an alcoholic for drinking alone. This place was perfect; it was cozy and relatively quiet, but it still had a certain buzz of activity that made her feel like she was in friendly company.

She took a seat at the counter, carefully choosing one with an empty seat on each side. She set her handbag down on on of those seats, thus ensuring that she wouldn't be completely surrounded by strangers. Even if someone sat to her left, if she didn't want to be bothered, she would have an empty right side to comfort her. Regardless of whether or not that would deter unwanted company, it was something that Ginny needed to feel content when drinking alone.

The bartender was busy with other patrons, and Ginny observed him quietly. He was thin and blond, but because of the low lighting, she could not get a good look at his face. His clear skin and taut body gave her the impression that he was somewhere in the vicinity of her age, but without looking at his face, she couldn't really be sure. He was chatting somewhat animatedly with an older man seated on the opposite side of the bar.

Just then, the bartender turned in her direction, and Ginny caught her first look at his face. With a sharp intake of breath, she realized that the man who was serving drinks was the last person she had ever expected to see.

"Malfoy?"

He looked upand caught her eye, narrowing them almost imperceptibly at the sight of her. But he cleared his throat and stood directly in front of her. "Little Weasley," he said by way of greeting. "What is it that you'd like?"

Thoughts of a chilled glass of white wine went by the wayside for the moment. "What the hell are you doing slinging drinks?" she asked. "Aren't you too good for this type of work?"

The corner of his lips upturned slightly. "Well, yes and no. Drink?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Vodka on the rocks, two olives. And an explanation please."

He reached below the counter for a glass and began preparing her drink. "If you must know, I own this bar, but I haven't yet found a reliable bartender. Every kid I hire ends up calling in sick every night or quitting after one day on the job. So yes, I am too good for this sort of thing, but I haven't really got a choice, now have I?" He set her glass in front of her. "Nine sickles."

"Start me a tab."

"Sure thing," Draco said as he threw a damp dishcloth over his shoulder. "Let me know when you're ready for your next round."

And Ginny sat momentarily stunned. Draco Malfoy was in the business of customer service.

* * *

It was nearing the end of the night, and Ginny was still sitting in the same seat. Draco was chatting with a few gentlemen across the bar. She was lost in thought, staring as she swirled two ice cubes in her diluted vodka.

"All right, Weasley, it's last call," Draco said, his voice tired. "Want another round?"

Ginny shrugged. "No olives."

Draco looked at her quizzically for a moment, but then he nodded and began to prepare her last drink. When he set the glass in front of her, he leaned foreward on his elbows, his face only a few inches from hers. "You going to make it home all right?"

She frowned into her glass. "I'm not even drunk."

He snorted. "Weasley, if you're sober right now, then I'm the Queen of England."

For whatever reason, Ginny found this terribly amusing, and she laughed aloud for nearly a minute without pause. "Prince of darkness, maybe."

The amusement washed away from him. "You going to be able to pay your tab?"

"Of course!" She took a sip of her drink and reached for her bag. "WhaddoI owe you?"

"Erm... four galleons, three sickles, twenty-eight knuts."

She choked on her drink. "Why in the bloody hell did you let me drink so damn much?" Ginny coughed. "Can you Floo my brother, George?"

"No time. Listen, Weasley, if you don't have enough to cover your tab, it's all right. You can... you can pay me tomorrow if you need to. I'll help you Floo home once the place clears out."

Ginny nodded, knowing well enough that she didn't have much choice. She probably did have enough money with her to pay him, but she certainly wasn't sober enough to count her coins. She decided that waiting for Draco to help her home would be the best and safest choice, so for now, she'd just close her eyes for a minute...

* * *

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she was thankful for was the dim lighting. She was still in the bar, but Merlin only knew how long she'd been there. Panic rose in her stomach for a moment, but once she realized that she was clutching her bag in her hands and that Draco Malfoy was still wiping down the counters, she began to remember her night.

"What time is it?" she asked groggily.

"Almost five," Draco said, tossing his towel beneath the counter into a bin. "Good to see you awake."

Ginny touched her hand to her head, feeling the pounding headache begin to return to her temples. "How long have I been asleep?"

"Let's see. Last call was at two. I locked the doors at three, and you crashed sometime between the two of those." He chuckled at her. "Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior, Weasley?"

She glared at him. "Of course not. Today just happened to be an especially terrible day."

"Right, well... d'you think you'll be able to make it home on your own, or shall I escort you?"

"Wait," Ginny said, holding up one finger in irritation. "You don't believe me, do you? You think I'm a bloody lush."

"I said no such thing."

"You implied it!"

"Well, what else am I supposed to think?" he asked with an impatient shrug. "I haven't seen you in, what, going on eight years now, and you come into my bar, make yourself a permanent resident, open yourself a tab, and then nine glasses of vodka later you inform me that you need me to call someone to come collect you. Sounds pretty problematic to me."

"For your information, Malfoy," Ginny hissed as she got to her feet, her knees still feeling a bit like jelly, "this... this is not me."

"Fine. You don't need to explain yourself to me. Can you get home on your own or can't you?"

"I got fired today, and my boyfriend... well, boy was that an interesting meeting he asked me to..."

"Bloody hell, I'm not standing around here all night."

Without waiting for Ginny to respond again, one way or another, Draco stood next to her, holding her tightly around the waist, and performed a Side-Along Apparation to his own flat.

For a moment, she thought she might retch, but instead, she took several deep breaths before reaching out her hand to find the nearest wall and slid down beside it. She closed her eyes tightly – the lighting in this room was brighter than that of the last, and she could already feel a headache coming on.

But then she smelled something delightful and pepperminty. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Draco was crouched near her, holding a much-needed mug of tea.

"Here," he said. "It's peppermint, and I've put a sobering potion in it so that you'll be able to get yourself home."

Ginny gratefully accepted the tea and took a sip. "Malfoy..."

"Yeah?"

She nibbled at her bottom lip. "I swear that the mess of a woman you've been dealing with tonight is not the typical Ginny Weasley."

"So you said. Drink your tea. I'd like to go to bed sometime this morning."

She took another large swig, feeling a gentle warmth flow through her body as she did. She wasn't quite sure if the warming sensation was from the tea or the potion, but Ginny didn't care much. She was sobering, and the more she did, the more she felt like a complete and utter disaster for how she had behaved at the bar.

"I got fired today," she began again. "I was working for the Prophet, and I was given an assignment... I had one day to write it in, and even though I worked all night, I just couldn't finish it."

"How unfortunate," he responded as he took a seat on the arm of the nearest lounge chair, sounding slightly bored, although not entirely insincere.

There was a long bout of silence again as Ginny continued to drink her hot tea, and by the time she had finished it, she had felt more refreshed than she had at any point during the day.

Draco stood up from his seat just as Ginny finished her drink. "Look, Weasley... I don't know you too well, but I remember that when we were kids... you were pretty sharp."

"What are you getting at?"

He shrugged, appearing to be mildly uncomfortable. "You need a job, and I need a bartender. If it doesn't work out, fine, but listen, you know I'm desperate if I am offering a job to a witch that just got herself so sloshed at my bar she couldn't even stay awake..."

Ginny snorted. "All right. What time should I come to work?"

He gave her a half-smile. "Six o'clock, sharp. And don't you dare be late."

* * *

Thanks to the wonderful Muggle Jane for the beta!


	2. Saints and Sailors

"Let's get a few things straight, all right?" Draco said as he set down a piece of parchment nearly two feet long. "This here is a list of all of our beers, wines, and hard liquors. You need to learn it. In time, you'll memorize it, I'm sure, but for now, just look it over. We also sell mixed drinks. Cocktails." He set down another parchment that was nearly double the size of the first. "Here are some recipes. Again, get to know them. It will help you."

Ginny sighed and nodded. "All right. I think I can do this."

"Now, fixing drinks aside, the most important thing you need to understand is that this is a business. You need to act professionally. No dating customers or coworkers, keep your attitude in check, look presentable, and most of all… don't hex the blokes that hit on you. Drunken slobs will keep this place in business, and therefore they need to be respected, regardless of how abhorrent their behavior may seem at times."

"No problem, boss."

He raised a perfectly arched blond eyebrow. "We may not have known each other well back in the day, Weasley, but I do remember you. In particular, I remember that you can be a pretty mean witch with a wicked Bat Bogey Hex."

Ginny couldn't help but let herself smirk just a little.

"You need to let go of that particular inclination while you are at work. Do you understand me?"

"Yes. I think I can make it through eight hours with no hexing."

Draco did not look particularly convinced. "We'll see about that."

From that point on, Ginny was on her own. Draco disappeared into the office for over an hour while the servers and bussers bustled in and out of the kitchen with trays of food and beverages and bins of dirty dishes. For the first few hours, Ginny was not particularly busy - it was a weekday evening, after all, and not many people would go out drinking when they've got work the next day - but she did get several orders from the servers for drinks. At that pace, her job was relatively easy, and she could just take a few moments to glance down a long list for the wine or cocktail that was ordered.

"A glass of Chianti, a bottle of Firewhisky, and two light beers from the tap for table six, Ginny," a waitress named Emily said.

"Coming up!" Ginny said with a smile. Of everyone she had met so far, she had to say that Emily was her favorite. She was a few years older than Ginny with the blondest hair and bluest eyes anyone could imagine, and a smile that dazzled anyone she shot it to.

Ginny arranged the drinks on a large serving tray, rang the bell so that Emily knew her order was up and tossed a damp towel over her shoulder. Another hour had gone by, and still everything was going smoothly. She was already learning about some of the most popular drinks and where all of the different wines were kept on the shelf. She knocked twice on the wooden counter so as not to jinx herself.

It was nearly half nine when folks started to wander in and take seats around the bar. There were half a dozen single women who had come in together, and it only took less than twenty minutes before several men in business casual had approached them. Ginny smiled to herself. They may have come in as groups, but they sure as hell wouldn't be leaving that way.

By ten o'clock, nearly every seat at the bar was filled with sharply dressed men, scantily clad women, and even more people who were casually attired and just looking to take a load off. Ginny had begun to be able to tell the difference between all the different types of people and what they tended to order. The women who were looking to find a man for the night almost always ordered a fruity cocktail or a vodka soda, and the men who were on the prowl tended to order a beer or a glass of wine, sipping on it conservatively as they glanced over the mob of women to spot their prey. Those who were there to relax tended to order an array of different drinks and shots, and almost always they wouldn't make eye contact with anyone who was searching for a date. They also tended to stick close to those with whom they came.

It was nearly eleven when Draco finally emerged from the kitchens to assist Ginny in slinging drinks at the bar. He wasn't particularly chatty, but he was very helpful and gave her concise directions about how to efficiently handle the mob of people. Even though it was strange to feel that way about him, Ginny was extremely grateful that he was there.

The rest of the evening was a blur. Last call was at two o'clock, and Ginny realized with an impressive yawn that her night had flown by, despite having been on her feet without so much as a toilet break in over ten hours.

"You did well, Weasley," Draco said with a half-smile. "Go home. Tomorrow same time, all right?"

Ginny nodded and said her goodbyes to the girls in the kitchen who were helping to close up.

…

The next two nights at the bar where a breeze, and Ginny found herself nearly unable to distinguish between them. Working so late was exhausting, and each hour blurred into the next. Each day, she woke up feeling more and more tired, but during the evenings she felt alive. She was finally doing something that allowed her to meet people, to interact, and to feel powerful, even if it was nothing more than a crappy job with even crappier pay.

Draco was somewhat insufferable, and he seemed to become more passive aggressive towards her with each day. He'd barely speak to her, and then he would suddenly criticize the way she was doing absolutely everything. Though he was her boss and Ginny did realize that it was her job to do what he wanted her to, she found a lot of amusement in annoying him. It was childish and petty, of course, but then so was she at times.

Two men had just walked in together, and she could tell immediately that they were looking for dates for the night. They had each ordered an imported beer, and they barely spoke to one another.

Instead, their focus was entirely on Ginny.

"We've been coming here every Saturday, love. Why have we never seen you before?" one man asked her.

"If we would have known you were going to be here, we'd have come in every night this week," the other said.

Ginny was smart enough to know exactly what they were doing, but she was also dumb enough to allow it to get to her head. "Well now that you know, you should come in every night," she said back, winking at them from behind her dark lashes as she leaned forward just enough so that the men could get a brief eyeful of her cleavage.

"Weasley, a word?"

She snapped out of her bimbo persona at the sharp sound of Draco's voice and allowed him to pull her to the side.

"Go home, Weasley," he said before she could speak a single word. "I'll take over the bar for tonight. You get out of here."

"What?" Ginny said. "Why?"

"Because I gave you three specific rules for how to conduct yourself, and you've broken two of them in three days, and you're on your way to breaking the third."

Ginny remembered Draco's rules. Look presentable, act professionally, no dating customers or employees.

The first night Ginny had worked had gone off without a hitch. The second night, Ginny had forgotten to brush her hair and had worn a dirty shirt to work. The third night, she had cursed at a wizard who had made a sexist remark. But she had no intention of dating anyone from work.

"Look, I said I was sorry about yelling at that man. And I was so tired from work I wasn't paying attention to the clothes I put on."

"Weasley, get out before you embarrass yourself."

"Draco, please. I want to work."

"I want you gone, and if you don't get out now, I'll make that arrangement permanent."

"But…"

"Go."

There was no sense in arguing anymore. With a glare in Malfoy's direction - which he had pointedly ignored - and her eyes looking down at the floor in shame, Ginny left the bar with nothing but intent to get herself completely smashed.

...

Ginny opened her eyes and found herself in a foreign environment. Though she didn't like to admit it, this wasn't a particularly unusual occurrence for her. She had had her share of drunken indiscretions, but this was a bit different. She was fully clothed and there was no one sleeping beside her. The pillows that were on the opposite side of the bed were cold - which meant that no one had been there earlier. The room looked entirely unfamiliar, but she was comfortable, aside from the pounding in her head.

What was most troubling, though, was that she could not remember a single thing about the night before, where she was, or how she got there.

"You're up, are ya?"

"Mmmm," she groaned as she sat up, running her hands over her face and through her mess of tangled hair. "Where am I?"

"My flat," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Drink this."

Ginny glanced up and saw who she had spend the night with. "Seamus?" she said, her voice going up almost a full octave.

"Goodness, Gin, don't sound so excited to see me," he responded cheekily. "Peppermint tea. Drink up, would ya?"

"Thanks." She gave him a half-smile as she took a sip of her tea. "But seriously, why am I here? We didn't… do anything, did we?"

Seamus snorted as he reached out and ruffled her hair playfully. "Get your mind outta the gutter, love. I found ya wandering about at six o'clock this morning. I had no idea where ya live, so I brought ya here."

She continued to sip her tea and took a glance over at the clock. It was nearly one o'clock. It should have concerned her that the entire previous night was such a blur, but instead Ginny was just thankful that he had found her - someone who was at least an old acquaintance. But now she could feel his eyes on her, looking on at her in concern, pity, confusion. She didn't like for people to look at her like that.

With a sigh, she set her mug on the night stand. "Look, if you've got something to say to me, then just say it."

He touched her hand. "I've known you for a long time, love," Seamus said slowly. "The Ginny I knew at Hogwarts was a bloody force to be reckoned with. I remember you hexing the life out of any bloke who crossed you."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Get to your point while I'm still young, won't you?"

He exhaled in irritation. "My point is that the girl I found stumbling around in an alley as drunk as a bloody skunk was not the Ginny that I grew up knowing. You couldn't have hexed anyone without falling flat on your face, and if anyone had wanted to take advantage of ya they would have had a hell of an easy time."

"So I've changed. Is that a crime?"

"In your case, yeah, it is." He kneeled on the floor by her feet. "What happened to ya?"

She refused to meet his eyes. "I grew up."

"Too fast if ya ask me."

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "I didn't ask you, and I'd appreciate it if you would stop with the judgments."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Look, I'm the last person to ever preach about decisions. I've gone days where the only things in my stomach were Firewhisky and crackers. But you are better than that, and ya always have been." He got to his feet. "Now, I'm done trying to pry. You can stay here until your hangover eases up a bit, or you can leave. But I'm not going to bother ya anymore."

She bit her lip as she watched him turn to leave. "Hey, Seamus."

"Ginny?"

She opened her mouth, fully intending to tell him her story - the last few years, everything leading up to why she was the way that she was. But it never came out. "Thank you for the tea."

His smile was kind and his nod was appreciative, but she could tell it was insincere.


	3. All Apologies

Ginny left Seamus' place, but she didn't go home straight away.

A block or so away from her flat, there was a coffee shop that she frequented. She decided to stop in there instead. Even though she had obviously only gotten a few hours of sleep that night, she couldn't bring herself to go home and get back into bed. There was simply too much on her mind - too much to think about - to be able to relax..

The barista smiled at her in recognition and asked if Ginny wanted the usual. She was grateful that the girl who got her coffee made no comment or indication that she noticed the rat's nest on Ginny's head or the heavy bags beneath her eyes.

"Double shot of espresso over ice."

"Coming up," the younger girl said with a smile.

As Ginny waited for her drink, she tried to remember what happened the night before. She remembered getting sent home from work by Draco because some jerks were flirting with her - which, okay, maybe she had been flirting back a little bit… but was that really reason enough to be sent home?

Lost in thought, she barely noticed a man sidling up beside her. It wasn't until the spicy scent of his cologne found its way to her nose that she realized he was there.. He smelled of cloves and cinnamon and cigarettes, although she had a feeling that the heavier, pleasant scents were meant to cover up the abrasive smell of the nicotine.

She turned abruptly to see who was near her, her elbow immediately striking the man's gut in the process.

"_Ooof, Weasley_."

Ginny was surprised, but before she could even notice who it was that she had struck, she had already begun to apologize. "Oh, Merlin, I am

sorry… I didn't even see you there, I…"

But to her surprise, the man had already begun to chuckle at her mortified rambling. "It's… it's fine. Really."

"Draco?" Ginny said as she finally realized who she had assaulted. Her cheeks had begun to turn a deep, embarrassing shade of pink.

His eyebrow raised in amusement. "You mean you tried to kill me _before _you knew it was me?"

She bit her lip when she realized he was just taking the mickey. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head in amusement. "Don't worry about it." He glanced around the coffee shop briefly before turning back to her. "How about you and I sit together for a bit. I'd like to have a word with you, if I may."

"Er… well, sure, okay…"

A few moments passed before both their drinks were set up on the counter. Draco took hold of both of them, although whether it was meant in a gentlemanly way or to ensure that Ginny couldn't take her drink and run away without talking to him, she couldn't quite be sure. The table he chose was all the way in the back corner near the exit, and this made her feel a twinge uncomfortable.

"So, here's what it comes down to, Weasley…" he began, taking a sip of his cappuccino, stopping immediately to make an irritated look at his beverage.

Ginny watched in amusement as Draco got up from the table and grabbed a handful of sugar packets from the coffee bar. She found her lips curling up into a smile as he dumped packet after packet of sweetener into his drink.

"I have a bit of a sweet tooth," he explained.

"I can see that," Ginny replied, pointedly taking a sip of her iced espresso that had not been sweetened at all. "But let's get back to business, shall we?"

"Who said this was business related?" he asked.

"It's just an expression, Malfoy."

"Well, as it were… it is about your job."

She sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest. "This had better be an apology then."

Draco snorted. "An apology? Are you serious?"

Ginny felt her cheeks getting redder and skin getting hotter. "You sent me home yesterday without any reason. I didn't do anything wrong."

"Yes, I absolutely _did _have a reason. I also gave you said reason, and I had every right to send you home because of it."

"Your reason was that you thought I might have been flirting with some guys - which I wasn't - and you thought I was going to break one of your bloody stupid three rules."

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to argue this with you, Weasley. Do you want to keep your job or not?"

"Well… well…" she stammered, her words not coming out due to her frustration. "Well, yes, of course I do. But that doesn't mean that I'm going to stand by while you…"

"Shut up, Weasley," Draco interrupted, his eyes hard and his voice stern. "My restaurant is still new, all right? There is something about it that you don't quite understand."

She tossed her hands into the air in exasperation. "Enlighten me, then."

"You've got a bad attitude, did you know that?" He sighed, running his hands over his face. "Look, I want you to work there. I do. You're good, my clients have said they like you, you're attractive, and… you come from a good family."

This surprised her. "What does my family have to do with anything?"

Draco swallowed hard. "Everything. After the war, it… it took me years to make a name for myself again. A good name - not one that was associated with bigotry and wealth. But I needed a fresh start, so I worked for it. You walked into my bar at the right time, and you told me that that drunken mess you were was an anomaly. So I took a chance on you. Maybe that was a mistake."

She didn't want to look him in the eye anymore. "I'm not a lush. I've just been having a rough time, okay?"

"I understand rough times." He paused. "Look at me, Ginny."

Ginny was startled by his use of her first name, and so she did what he asked without hesitation.

"I understand, okay? Really, I do. And I know I'm not that much older than you, that I'm not in any position to preach or to tell you how to live your life, but you're better than how you're acting." He knocked back the rest of his coffee in one more gulp as he stood up from the table. "You can have tonight off. I can see you've had a rough night, and I'm going to forget about that. But tomorrow you had better be done with this, or else you're going to find yourself jobless."

…

Another week of slinging drinks went by, and Ginny kept Draco's words very close to the chest. She didn't drink or party, she came into work on time, and she continued to follow his three cardinal rules. Every man who entered the bar who even appeared to be even slightly interested in her, Ginny batted away with a coy smile and a clever excuse for why she was unavailable.

Draco seemed to ease up on her a bit, as well. The fact that she had not had a drink made her face seem relaxed, her eyes brighter. Even when she made mistakes, he excused it, regardless of how serious the infraction was or how angry the customer got. Her newfound sobriety had made all the difference.

Even though Draco seemed to be able to constantly monitor everything in his restaurant, Ginny hardly ever saw him. It was refreshing to see him help out all of his employees, no matter what their job was. She witnessed him cooking in the kitchen, waiting tables, washing dishes, scrubbing toilets, and everything in between. He was actually quite fun to work for once she was in his good graces because he would never let her take the fall for anything she did wrong. He was in charge, therefore he was to blame.

It wasn't until a very slow Monday night that Ginny found herself able to have another real conversation with him.

At ten o'clock, there was not a soul in the restaurant.

There was a fierce storm brewing outside, with lighting and thunder barely a second apart.

"I think we had better close up for the night," Draco said. "Let's clean up and get out of here, yeah?"

Ginny nodded as she began wiping down the bar. It took her longer than she expected to finish up, considering that she had barely served ten customers all night, but she tried not to notice that nearly everyone was gone by the time she was done. Everyone except for Draco, that was.

"Will you be able to get home all right, Weasley?"

She turned abruptly, not realizing how closely he had been standing to her. His chest was barely an inch from hers, and her breath quickened from the surprise. "Um… sure, yeah," Ginny answered.

"You sure?" he repeated. "I know you live in a Muggle neighborhood. You shouldn't be outside when the lightning is so close to us."

Ginny had honestly not thought about it. "I could Floo."

"Forget about it," Draco interrupted. "I heard on the Wireless that the Floo networks are down because of the storm."

"Oh…" She crossed her arms over her chest. "Can I stay here until the storm dies down?"

"I think that would be the safest thing to do." His lips curled into a smile. "We have some fish and chips for a takeout order that never showed up. Share?"

She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until he offered.

The pair of them walked away from the bar, towards the kitchens. Ginny had never gone anywhere near the kitchens before; being a bartender almost always kept her incredibly busy, and when they were slow she spent all of her time studying the wine list and the cocktail recipes. Draco had not lied to her when he had said that learning those things would help her considerably.

Draco set down the food in the center of the table and slid into the seat across from her. He didn't speak, but his posture was relaxed and he wasn't watching her like a hawk like he had been the last week. Sitting with him in silence was comfortable, and Ginny found herself staring at him, studying his features. His grey eyes were almost clear, and his blond eyelashes were so long that they nearly met his eyebrows. The lines of his face were delicate like porcelain, and she envied the fact that his skin was pore-free.

His eyes jutted up to meet hers and his lips curved up slightly into a grin. "Something on my face, Weasley?"

Her cheeks reddened when she realized he had caught her staring. "Sorry," she murmured, mortified.

"I know I'm beautiful and all, but that's no reason to stare."

She rolled her eyes when she realized he was only teasing her. "You haven't changed at all in the last eight years, have you?"

An expression ghosted over his face that she couldn't quite place. "You'd be surprised."

"I'm… sorry. I didn't mean…"

"I know what you meant," he interrupted, not unkindly. "You meant I'm still an arrogant jerk… not that I'm a Muggle-hating terrorist."

Ginny blushed. "I'm not sure I would have phrased it that way."

He laughed out loud as he took a bite of his food. "Believe me, little Weasel, there's nothing you could call me that would be worse than what I've called myself." His face fell as he realized that Ginny was mortified. "Look… I'm a little on the socially awkward side sometimes. Side effect of being an only child who grew up to be a friendless, pretentious little git. I don't always know how to talk to people. It's why I usually keep to myself."

She bit her lip. "There's something that I never quite understood about… about your family."

Draco eyed her intently, his eyes narrowed as he looked on scrutinously. But he softened his gaze almost immediately, realizing that she was quite nervous about whatever it was she was about to stay. "Ask away."

"Why did all of the other Death Eaters go to prison, but you and your parents…" she trailed off, her face twisting into that of mortification. "I'm sorry, I had no right to ask you that. Ignore me."

He reached across the table, placing his hand over hers. It was an unintentionally soothing gesture that he had meant as no more than a means to stop her from rambling. "No, stop."

"I'm sorry," she insisted as she once again began to nibble at her lip. "I guess it's something I always wondered."

"Will you stop apologizing?" He set down his fish, leaned back, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Potter kept my family out of prison. He testified on our behalf." He shrugged unapologetically. "If you're looking for the reasons why he did it, you're really asking the wrong man. I never spoke to him - I haven't since school. My best guess would have to be that he saw that we weren't all that bad… that maybe I was just a boy who had made some bad choices."

Her eyes narrowed. "Not that bad? Your father tried to kill me when I was eleven."

"To be fair," Draco said, raising his hands defensively, "my father was more or less trying to get rid of a dark artifact before our manor was raided."

"Well, it does help to know his motives were pure…" she muttered sarcastically.

"Hey, it was fifteen years ago. If you don't think people can change in that amount of time, then maybe you should take a look in the mirror."

She suddenly felt very naked and uncomfortable as she wrapped her arms around herself. "No, I know I've changed."

There was a moment of silence. "You know my story, Ginny," he said evenly. "You know what I've done, what I've gone through. Tell me about you. Tell me something I don't know."

Nervously, she chuckled, pulling her knees up against her chest, her left arm keeping her legs close to her body while her right arm hung limply to her side. "I grew up. That's all. There's no story."

He sighed heavily. "Let me be the judge of that. Tell me what happened between you and Potter."

Once again, she began biting at her bottom lip nervously. "If you're looking for some nasty details about my life that led me to be a drunken harlot, then you're going to be disappointed."

Draco said nothing.

She exhaled. "I had some problems with my health. Harry treated me more like his child than his fiancee. So I gave him a hard time until he couldn't stand me."

"Sounds like a story to me. In fact, it sounds like there's a lot more to it."

She shrugged. "There isn't."

"The health issues," he continued… "cirrhosis of the liver?"

Ginny snorted. "No. The drinking was a result of the other things… not the cause of them. It was… more of a physical ailment than an illness." She took another deep breath and another bite of her food. "My arm. I hurt it in my second season with the Harpies." Her eyes fell to the table, unable to look up at him.

There was another long silence that grew between them. Draco was the first to speak. "Sounds like the storm broke. Want me to get you home? We could probably get safely to an Apparition point now."

She nodded, but didn't say a word.


End file.
